


I Will Shout From The Mountain Top

by lukeinallhisglory



Series: Cake [18]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - TiMER Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Sexual Content, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Soulmates, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 04:32:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12449754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukeinallhisglory/pseuds/lukeinallhisglory
Summary: The TiMER AU in which Luke's timer counts down to Calum, including stuff from a little before and after they meet.





	I Will Shout From The Mountain Top

**Author's Note:**

> It's here! A TiMER AU no one asked for, but I delivered anyway. It's very very fluffy, and almost completely lacking a point otherwise. I sure hope you guys like it, but either way let me know what you're thinking.  
> This is fiction, blah blah  
> Title from "Standing By" by Pentatonix. If you want to feel this fic, play that song on full blast while you read.  
> Enjoy :)

I made the appointment to get my timer activated on my fourteenth birthday, three months in advance. There was this moment of complete silence where I half expected the doctor to say I had that one-in-a-billion gene that prevented it from working. Then a high-pitched beep sounded and my heart dropped into my stomach. For a second I thought that I’d hallucinated it. I’d always been warned that I might have to wait years just to hear that sound. Some people never hear it, but for me it was immediate, like whoever was on the other end was already waiting for me. I stared at my wrist as golden numbers appeared from beneath the skin. 741 days, 3 hours, 22 minutes. Two years. I would be sixteen when I found out what color her eyes were, how her name sounded coming out of my mouth, or how long she had been waiting to hear that beep. At first I was resentful that I would have to wait that long. I felt like my life could start and end in that much time. It felt like a lifetime of waiting stretched out in front of me, knowing she was out there staring at the same golden numbers.

The whole idea of someone being destined for me was terrifying. There were these numbers, and some German scientific principal, and she believed in it all. Me, I had more hope than I did faith. Sometimes I think trusting one-inch golden numbers makes me a little bit crazy. She must be a little bit crazy, too. I spent months staring at my left wrist and thinking about her. I pictured her thousands of miles away, speaking Russian, or Japanese. I pictured her living three streets over my whole life, and the dotted lines of our never crossing paths on the street map of the town. In the end it didn’t really matter where, or what, or who she was. It was comforting sometimes just to picture her lying in her bed staring at her wrist and hoping like I was.

In 2011 Prince William and Kate Middleton got married, and Prince William’s teenage photos were suddenly all over the Internet. That’s one way to verify your sexuality. By April I was picturing a young Prince William when I sat on my bed and stared at those golden numbers. I still thought of _her_ as a her, but when I tried to imagine it I started getting this tight, anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach. For a few months I did my best not to imagine anything at all, but when I was falling asleep at night nineteen-year-old Prince William’s honey blonde hair and rosy cheeks filled my mind. I wondered what feeling I would get in my stomach when he kissed me for the first time.

By the time I turned fifteen I was sure that I was attracted not only to young Prince William, but to men in general. _She_ became _he_ , and started to feel a lot more real. It didn’t take long for me to realize that a year was really not so much time at all. My friends all had five years, ten years, fifteen years. They would graduate, go to college, start careers, live whole lives before they met the person that had been waiting patiently along side them all that time. It started to feel suffocating about four months out. I realized how little I knew about being _someone’s_. I realized my friends still all thought it would be a girl. I realized my older brothers both still had years left. I realized I was just this punk who didn’t know the first thing about what it meant to spend a lifetime with someone. I realized I wasn’t ready.

-:-

I was painfully aware of his future gaze when I got dressed with 6 hours, 56 minutes left. He was going to look at me, hear a beep, and just like that he would have to accept that _I_ was his future. That meant even if he still thought I would be a girl. Even if he thought I would look more like him, less like him, shorter, hotter, any and all of his expectations would be paired up against _me_. I had to compete with his 2000s Prince William.

I glanced at my wrist to see twelve minutes slowly counting down. Usually I would just go home, but today I had to wait for him. I had to trust that if I sat down at this picnic table, he would find me. So I did. I sat and stared at my wrist, and then covered it with my sleeve, feeling panicked, and then broke and stared for another minute.

With five minutes left I started to worry that just sitting here wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing. I got up and started on my way home because I couldn’t think of anything else. I put headphones in and blasted Green Day as loud as my eardrums could tolerate, trying desperately not to think about him.

With one minute left I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, the middle of the street, and looked around me. There was no one. There were birds, and trees, and houses, and then the sound of footsteps, running footsteps, and I whirled around to be hit right in the chest by another person. I stumbled and looked up to the sound of beeping, like that day in the doctor’s office, but louder and longer.

He was beautiful, in that immediate way. It was like I was being knocked into again as I caught his gaze. He was tan with curly, dark hair, bleached blonde at the tips, and dark, endless, soul-swallowing eyes. He was grinning at me, just staring, much like I was, with a mouth straight out of my wet dreams. He was sweaty, but he was beautiful.

I was suddenly very aware that I was just this peachy blonde kid, with nothing like _that_ going on in my eyes. I felt underdressed in a way, presenting myself to someone so blatantly gorgeous.

“Sorry, are you ok?” he asked, referring to crashing into me.

I gulped, probably audibly. “Yeah. Why were you running?”

He looked embarrassed. “I thought I might miss you, because I sat down thinking I would just wait for you to come to me, and then I realized you might be doing the same thing, and I didn’t know what to do with myself when I saw the time go below a minute so I just started sprinting.”

“Wow,” I murmured, watching him explain himself, his hands moving everywhere. I realized I’d said it loud enough for him to hear and blushed furiously. “I just mean…I sort of did the same thing.”

He looked happy to hear that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m Luke,” I held out my hand, which I hoped wasn’t trembling noticeably.  

“Calum.” He took my hand and shook it, then tugged me closer and pressed his mouth to mine, just gently and only for a few seconds, but long enough for me to grab the side of his shirt and whine softly. He was grinning smugly as he pulled back.

“I’ve spent two years wondering what that would feel like,” I admitted softly.

He seemed to like that, too. “Me, too.” He was still holding on to my hand, his thumb rubbing over the back. “So, Green Day?” He asked and I was suddenly very aware of the music still blasting from the headphones that hung out of my pocket. I pulled them out of my phone.

“Oh, um, yeah…is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good, it’s good,” he rushed to reassure me. “But now I’ll never be able to listen to ’21 Guns’ without thinking of you.”

“Me neither.” I grinned.

-:-

The start of our relationship was both the easiest thing I’ve ever gone through, and the most terrifying. I didn’t even realize how attached I’d become until I really needed him. It was something like midnight on a Wednesday. My dad came downstairs in a flurry. He said Jack was on his way to the A&E, a hit and run. He said I couldn’t come, told me to go to sleep, and left. I called Calum.

“Hello?” his voice was quiet, like he’d fallen asleep doing work again.

“Hi,” I replied, acutely aware of the shakiness of my breathing.

He was immediately worried. “Are you ok?”

“It’s Jack.”

“What happened, hon?”

“A car accident. I don’t know anything, just that he’s on the way to the A&E.” I was crying now, not bothering to cover it up.

“I’ll come over,” he said firmly.

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Yes I do. Of course I’m coming.” He spoke over my protests. “Ten minutes, ok?”

“Yeah.”

When he knocked on my door softly I opened it to a sleep ruffled, thrown-together version of my boyfriend of four months. I closed the door behind him, and he immediately hugged me, arms wrapping tightly around my torso. I gripped back just as hard, letting him support me physically and emotionally for a few moments.

He pulled back and held me at arms length, hands on my face, wiping my tears even as they fell. “What can I do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I sighed heavily.

“Lukey,” he protested.

“Just…stay,” I admitted faintly. Faintly enough that he could pretend not to have heard me, and save us both the embarrassment of rejecting me.

“Of course,” he said instead, leaning in and kissing me softly.

I melted into it, kissing him back with growing force. He let me press him up against the door, his hands in my hair as my lips trailed down his neck. “Cal,” I whispered as he let out little groans of enjoyment.

“Mm,” he said half as another groan, and half as a response.

I stopped kissing him, looking at him heatedly. “I love you.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, and then grinned and pitched himself forward to kiss me again. He pulled back still grinning, his hands tugging at my shirt, holding me close. “I love you, too,” he said adamantly. He kissed me again, breaking away and pressing back repeatedly. His hand dragged from mine to my sleeve, pushing it up my arm and dragging his fingers across my wrist where golden dashes stood as a testament to us.

“Thank you,” I murmured, pressing the words into his cheek.

I took a shaky breath in, trying desperately not to let my thoughts stray to Jack. “It’ll be ok, baby,” Calum let go of my wrist and laced our fingers. “Let’s go to bed.” He pulled me along behind him up the stairs, heaviness in the air that suggested something.

I sat on the bed and Calum collapsed across it next to me. “Tired?” I chuckled, rubbing his back.

“Mm hmm.”

“That’s too bad, I was hoping for a little distraction,” I flirted, grinning at him.

He grabbed my arm and tugged me on top of him clumsily, kissing me heatedly. I moved fully on top of him, pushing his sweatshirt half way up his torso to get better access to his hips and waist. He held my face in his hands, then moved them to my waist, and then pushed at the waistband of my jeans. All done up they were too tight to get anything productive going. He let out a frustrated puff. I chuckled. “Take ‘em off.” He groaned and I watched as he reached between us and undid my belt, and then popped the button and tugged down the zipper.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, hands ready to push my jeans off.

“Yes,” I kissed him again and he shoved them down, taking my underwear with them. He helped me shove them all the way off, giggling as I struggled. I moved down, pressing my lips to his stomach, moving up. “Now this,” I half growled, nipping at his sweatshirt. He pulled it off over his head and I dove back in to kiss him, pressing my growing impatience to his skin.

In that moment I should have been thinking about Calum. Only Calum. Instead I had a torrent of thoughts all cycling through my mind, working against the biological instincts that were trying to dominate the situation. A stream of my own insecurities, and then Calum, clocks and the incessant ticking of a car turn signal, and then Calum, Jack dying or being paralyzed, and then Calum.

I had never been so aware of the specific and arguably precarious dynamic that existed between the two of us. We were together in that moment not because we had chosen each other, or fought for it in any way, but just because we were told to be. It didn’t usually bother me because I was fairly certain that the power of suggestion wasn’t strong enough to trick me into loving him. In that moment the lightning-flash thought that we were diving in based on nothing bled into everything else. I couldn’t get the image of Calum ripping a ring off his finger, throwing it at me, and slamming the door behind him as he left out of my head. I also had this image of metal crumpling like tissue, and glass shattering with that sickening tinkling noise, and blood, and sirens reflected off of rain-slick pavement and road signs. I saw Jack lying in a room that was too white.

Calum pulled me back up to meet his lips, running his fingers through my hair, and then grabbing at my hips. “Stop,” I pushed him away, sitting up. “Stop, stop, stop. I’m sorry, I just can’t do this right now.”

“Shit, I’m such an idiot,” Calum let go of my hips, holding his hands away from me. “You’re completely right, I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re here.” I smiled softly at him. “It’s just that when we do this, I want it to be perfect. I want to be perfect for you, and I just can’t right now because I’m too worried about Jack.”

“You’re right, this can wait.” He assured me. “But for the record, you never have to be _perfect_. Just be you, and be here, with me. That’s all I want.”

“Ok,” I blushed heavily and leaned in to kiss him.

-:-

When I realized that I wanted to propose to Calum it was like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I’d had this heavy feeling in my gut for a while, like I wanted to do something drastic, and prove to him how much he meant to me, but I couldn’t figure out what to do. We were about to graduate, and it looked like we might want to go in opposite directions geographically, and there was a somewhat unspoken, mutual insecurity about it.

I hadn’t even turned eighteen yet when I did it. We were lying out on my front lawn on a blanket, having just had dinner, and nowhere near ready to say goodbye for the night yet. “Calum,” I murmured, disentangling our fingers. “Will you marry me?” He laughed when I said it, but when he looked over at me, and saw that I was up on one knee, he just stared.

“You’re joking,” he mumbled, not seeming to actually believe that.

“’M not.”

“Stop that,” he didn’t look at all amused as he tugged me back down on top of him. “I hate you,” he whispered as he smashed his lips against mine. I settled into it and kissed him back, laughing as he mumbled his hatred repeatedly into my mouth.

“Cal, what are you on about?” He tugged a velvet box out of his jacket pocket and shoved it against my chest. I opened it to find a thin, gold, band ring, engraved with a vine-like pattern. I looked back up at him in shock. “Wait…”

“I was gonna propose to you.”

“When did you get this?” I was staring at the ring now rather than him.

“About a year back,” he mumbled.

“Cal…”

“You beat me to it though,” he said bitterly. “And ringless, I might point out.”

“Do you always carry this around with you?” I ignored his bitterness, still in awe.

“Sometimes.”

“You’re amazing.” I pitched myself forward to kiss him again, grabbing his face in my hands. He hummed in surprise and kissed me back. “Ok, do it.” I pushed the box back into his hands.

“You kind of already did,” he said, seeming more amused at this point.

“Yeah, but you were right, I don’t have a ring.”

“I’ll show you something,” he popped the box back opened and pulled the casing out of the bottom. Underneath the cushion that displayed the first ring there was a second ring, a thin, plain, silver band. “This was for me, if you said yes. Take it.” He held out the box and I took the ring out, suddenly feeling the gravity of this moment.

“Calum Hood…”

“Great start, might want to take a knee there, mate,” he teased.

“I’m getting there. You, shut up,” I giggled and sat back away from him. “You amaze me.” I reached out and ran my fingers over the golden dashes on his wrist. “And not just because you’re supposed to. I feel so much for you, and the fact that those numbers made it happen used to scare me, but it doesn’t anymore.” He grinned, settling his hand on my knee as tears slipped down my cheeks. “You are a blessing.” I stopped for a second, trying to gain my composure. “You make me better every second that we spend together. I know we’re both afraid of what will happen and where we’ll be next year.” He frowned at that, looking down. “I know _I’m_ terrified.” I realized I was looking down now, and when I looked back up at him he had a fierce look in his eye.

I smiled through my tears. “So that’s why I want to marry you, or at least give you this as a promise that I will.” I held up the ring.  

“Ask me so I can say yes and kiss you,” he murmured.

“Will you marry me, Cal?”

“God yes.” He sat up and crashed our mouths together for a second time. “I’m yours,” he promised. “I’ll always be yours.”

“Let me put it on you,” I giggled, breaking the kiss. I pushed the ring on to his finger and he took my face in his hands to kiss me again. I could feel the metal against my face, and I couldn’t stop grinning long enough to properly kiss him.

“Take yours, too,” he added, grabbing the box from where it had been abandoned on the blanket next to us. He pushed the ring on to my finger and then just grinned up at me.

“What?” I chuckled.

“Nothing, you’re just gorgeous. And engaged to me,” he smirked.

“You’re that pleased about it?” I grinned back at him.

“I’m not a ‘why buy the cow?’ guy.”

“Thank god.”

“Luke,” he kissed my cheek, reaching up and wiping the remnants of my tears away. “I fucking love you.”

I laughed. “And I love you.”

“And now I’m gonna play ’21 Guns.’” He reached over for his phone and tapped for a second before the familiar first chords hit the air. I immediately started crying again and threw my arms around Calum’s shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for getting through that. I'm hoping at least one person can ignore how late I am to the TiMER AU game and actually likes this. Let me know if that's you! By the way, I'm also hoping someone can appreciate the fact that I tagged every person mentioned, including Luke's dad who wasn't even mentioned by name in it.  
> Anyway you can also click through to my other stuff if you liked this, and otherwise just have a wonderful day :)


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